


Start from Scratch

by FaiaHae



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dad 76, Dad Reaper, Elf on the Shelf, Found Family, M/M, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes Redemption, Team as Family, background McHanzo, home for the holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 06:45:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaiaHae/pseuds/FaiaHae
Summary: An elf doll is wandering the base at nightJack's making a lot of cookiesJesse is trying to figure out how those two things are connected.





	Start from Scratch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dracoduceus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracoduceus/gifts).



> Inspired by @ventiskull on twitter for jack and the cookies and my dear friend DC, who kept hinting at elf shenanigans. you brought this monstrosity into the world. blame yourselves.
> 
> <3

On December 15th, an Elf-On-The-Shelf appeared on the mantle above the big fireplace Reinhardt had built into the wall of the kitchen.

 

No one on base had bought it, and asking Athena had been....less than successful.

 

“Athena.” McCree glared at the thing.

 

“Who bought this?”

 

“Agent Morrison.”

 

____

 

“Athena.” Jack grunted out, furiously adjusting his glasses as he tried to make sense of the thing on the mantle.

 

“Who brought this fucking thing onto base?”

 

“That would be Agent McCree.”

____

 

“Oy, Athena! What’s this?”

 

“An Elf-on-the-shelf. It’s an American cultural object.”

 

“Oh. Suppose Winston must have pulled it outta storage.”

 

“That is correct, Agent Oxton.”

 

_____

 

“ATHENA! WHAT IS THIS CHARMING LITTLE MAN!”

 

“That would be an elf-on-the-shelf, Agent Wilhelm. It’s an American cultural object.”

 

“AH! I REMEMBER THIS! JACK HATED THEM! Did Ana get it out of storage to prank him?”

 

“That’s correct.”

 

____

 

And perhaps the confusion would have stopped there, and come to a head in some kind of screaming match on the 25th, except on the night of the 17th, it disappeared.

Except it....didn’t.

 

Emily woke the whole base up on the morning of the 18th with a startled scream, as she woke up with a doll sitting on the bedside table. She’d returned it to the mantle, and on the 19th, Hanzo had tripped over it on his way for his post-midnight cup of tea- it had ended it’s night on Pharah’s bookshelf. The 20th had Hana half-roused from dozing off on stream by the sound of soft footsteps in the hallway, and when she’d peered out, the doll had been walking down the hall, a strange miasma around it.

 

Genji had found it on his pillow in the morning, and thrown it out the window.

 

It had appeared on Zenyatta’s knee when he roused himself from charging, soaked from the sea underneath Genji’s window. Zenyatta had....thought it best he not relate that to Genji, and had set the doll into a meditative pose and placed an orb of harmony in it’s lap.

 

It had disappeared when he’d turned his back, and the 23rd had it standing in Zarya’s doorway in the morning, peering around the corner.

 

She’d shot it.

 

The 24th had seen it back on the mantle, good as new.

 

“Alright- who’s doing this? If it’s a prank it’s gone too far.” Mercy was standing in front of the fireplace with her arms crossed, wearing her holly-pattern pajamas and looking very much like a woman who hadn’t slept in a week. Which, she hadn’t.

 

Hanzo was tucked firmly into McCree’s side, holding his hand in a deathgrip as he continued his staredown with the doll, half-convinced that eye contact was the only thing keeping it from running off. McCree was rubbing soothing circles into his back.

 

“I wouldn’t dream of touchin’ that thing. Creepy as all getout.”

 

Jack shot out of his seat, making Mei flinch next to him, and took off out the door.

 

Everyone watched him go in bafflement.

 

“What’s gotten into him?”

 

_____

 

Once the meeting had adjourned- the highlight of which was the brief period in which they couldn’t get Athena to acknowledge that the doll was present- McCree followed his nose to the kitchen.

He entered to a cloud of soft brown sugar, frosting, vanilla, and chocolate. Jack -and it was Jack, his visor was off, his shoulders were down, he wasn’t wearing that awful jacket- was surrounded by cooling racks and bowls of frosting and batter. He looked tense when he turned, but it bled out of him when he saw who it was.

 

He adjusted his glasses on his nose.

 

“Grab an icing bag, McCree. Or grab a broom. If you have time to lean, you have time to clean.”

 

Despite himself, Jesse grinned.

 

“Sir yes Sir.”

 

He grabbed an icing bag.

 

They worked shoulder to shoulder for a while, till the smell of sugar and the memories nearly overwhelmed him. He felt the empty space in the room like a silhouette, like the man who’d always been there to do this with them.

 

“Do you miss him?” Jesse hadn’t meant to ask, had expected Jack to freeze up once it was said, but he just sighed, taking the icing bag out of Jesse’s hand and waving him toward the oven.

 

“Of course I do. But I....don’t think I will. Much longer.”

 

Well, that was cryptic. And vaguely unsettling. But Jack didn’t seem inclined to say any more, and the oven was beeping at him, and there were other things to worry about.

 

The sun was setting as they finally finished, and Jack had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he pulled the lid of a slow-cooker and spooned something cider-smelling into a mug. He pushed it towards Jesse, and then served himself another mug.

 

“Go make sure the elf has gotten off the mantle.”

 

Jesse took the mug and went, taking an experimental sip as he went.

 

He blinked. That was.....very alcoholic. And tasted faintly of orange, cloves, cinnamon....

 

He froze, mid sip.

 

The elf was in the middle of the hallway.

 

Standing.

 

Holding a tiny knife.

 

Jesse took a step back.

 

The elf took a step forward.

 

Jesse turned on his heel and gave up the pretense, sprinting back to the kitchen, chugging the drink as he went, and hearing the tiny tap of feet behind him.

 

_fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-_

 

He dove in the door, splashing himself a bit as he swerved around Jack, who stepped out into the hall with a plate of cookies in one hand and a mug in the other. Jesse peered around the doorframe to watch, and saw Jack stomp down on a loose tile in the floor.

 

The lights flickered as the emergency backup took over, and he felt his arm sink as the EMP blast knocked out his circuitry.

 

The doll froze, twitching and spasming, before it straightened again- the sparks turning to black smoke that swirled around it. Jesse cowered a bit, but Jack stood firm. He held out the plate of cookies.

 

“I know there’s a lot that’s happened between us.”

 

Jesse blinked. _What._

 

Jack continued, ignoring him gaping in the doorway.

 

“It’s been a long time, and I’ve done too much wrong to make up for it all. So I...made a little of everything. You remember.”

 

The smoke rose from the doll, seeming to take a shape in the air, and Jack continued.

 

“Chocolate chip- always the best thing I knew how to cook. For all the years of my awful spaghetti and burned steaks. And for...taco tuesday. I’m truly sorry about that one.” The cloud seemed to shy back, but it was almost....forming a shape?

 

“Wassail, with vodka instead of ale, because I know you hated the way I always made it.” He hoisted the mug.

 

“Chocolate Crackle cookies, for the really bad days. Snickerdoodles, for missing another date night. Sugar, for when our dickhead commander yelled at you and we ran out of ingredients in the SEP kitchen.”

 

It was...

 

Jack took a step closer, and a hand emerged out of the fog to take the mug from him. A hand with sharp metal fingers, in a gauntlet.

 

“I have a pecan pie in the kitchen. It’s basically a mess of warm soup, because you weren’t here to make the crust and your son is as shit at it as you are. But that’s what happens when you leave us alone on Christmas.”

 

The form finished coalescing, and Gabriel Reyes took a long drink from the mug.

 

“I didn’t, did I? It’s still 11.50. Christmas Eve. I made it.”

 

Jack snorted.

 

“How long were you planning on keeping that going?”

 

“Long enough for Sombra to plant the presents under the tree to keep you all from looking too closely at it.”

 

The elf twitched, almost a death throw, and a tinny voice came from it.

 

_“Stop giving the game away you big softie! I haven’t finished forging the signatures on your sorry-I-tried-to-kill-you cards!”_

 

Jesse dropped the mug. It shattered, and neither of them so much as looked over at him.

 

Jack raised an eyebrow.

 

“And what does mine say?”

 

Gabriel opened his mouth to answer, but the voice from the doll got there first.

 

_“It says ‘your welcome for aiming at your back instead of at your head’ and then a bunch of things i’m not going to read! Because Ew!”_

 

Jack laughed, shoving the plate of cookies into Gabriel’s chest.

 

“Well, sorry to ruin your dramatic reveal. Come sit in the kitchen. You can catch us up before you terrorize everyone Christmas morning.”

 

Gabriel grinned.

 

“You know what, Jackie? I think I will.” He stuffed a chocolate chip cookie in his mouth, and made a noise that Jesse was almost embarrassed to have witnessed.

 

“FUCK, I missed this.”

 

Jack said something low, under his breath, and Jesse decided to wait in the kitchen.

 

Merry Christmas, indeed.

 


End file.
